


don't call it off, just call the black and white

by hannahnyrie



Category: Killing Eve (TV 2018)
Genre: Bottom Villanelle, F/F, Villaneve, everyone is sobbing including me, soft soft soft, villanelle goes to eve's apartment after the bus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-05-18
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:55:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23992651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hannahnyrie/pseuds/hannahnyrie
Summary: call it a rivalrycall it a fightcall it what you wantbut i need you tonightVillanelle goes to Eve's apartment the night of the bus incident.(Title is from "The Black and White" by The Band Camino)
Relationships: Eve Polastri/Villanelle | Oksana Astankova
Comments: 12
Kudos: 266





	1. it was perfect, eve.

**Author's Note:**

> just another work to add to the repertoire of "villanelle goes to eve's apartment after eve kisses her on the bus and it's very angry and lusty and encompasses the entire spectrum of human emotion." and also they cry. like a lot.
> 
> this is (one of) my first attempts at a villaneve fic and just smut in general (the smut will fully bloom in the next chapter), so i'd love any comments or criticism that anyone has to offer! 
> 
> my tumblr is @prepxn

Villanelle walks around aimlessly, after getting off the bus. She watched the vehicle until it disappeared around a cluster of buildings, her eyes straining to keep that bloom of curls through the back window in her vision. She looks down at her feet, remembering she's wearing a suit, remembering she's wearing the most expensive perfume she's ever bought. She feels the loose strands of hair tickling her neck and forehead – sees blurry blonde wisps in the corners of her eyes. Her entire head pulses and feels anchored to the purplish bump above her nose. She raises two fingers to it and presses down. She presses down harder, when she feels the pain.

It's good to have this, she thinks. The scar on her stomach is no longer responsive – it provides no feeling other than the soft roughness of its existence. This new bump, forged by a delicious manifestation of anger, lust, and bare passion makes Villanelle's face contort into an authentic smile. She laughs to herself, readjusts her outer jacket, and swaggers down another street. She pays special attention to the small flowers poking up out of the ground and the way the sun seems to dance with the blades of grass. There is an ease and a light beauty to everything, now.

It happened. Eve's lips against her own. And the fullness, the softness of them had made her head spin. It was brief, but more than a peck. Long enough to start drowning in the woman beneath her. When she pulled back, Eve stayed close, mind-numbingly close, to the point where their noses bumped softly against each other and their lips brushed once more. And her eyes, god. Had she ever even seen Eve's before? Really considered them, with more than just a passing glance? She doesn't care. She's seen them now. Pupils blown into a black ocean with waves of anger and pure heat crashing into each other. Sunlight had poured in through the bus windows at the same moment, illuminating Eve's eyes and making Villanelle feel like crying.

Then, the impact. It was a fierce hit, causing even more blood to rush to Villanelle's head.

Stumbling off the bus, it all just felt like passion.

She walks down another residential street, sticks her hand into her pocket, and pulls out the receipt from the toy shop. Printed in small black letters near the bottom of the slip is an address. She rolls over it with her thumb, until she sees the cheap ink begin to smear.

-

The brooding silhouette is in the apartment, sitting at the kitchen table, leaning against an elbow with a sultry languidness, when Eve opens her eyes. She's in bed, in nothing more than a tank-top and shorts, and she's been tossing around in a frustrating half-sleep for the past few hours. At the realization of not being alone, and of being watched, she screams.

The figure shoots up, rushes towards the bed and pins Eve's shoulders down.

"It's me! It's me! Eve, stop!" Eve seems hysterical, still screaming up into her, and Villanelle feels a weird mix of concern, and of something close to heartbreak.

"My fucking shoulder, let go!" Eve almost sobs the words. Villanelle releases her instantly, hit with a wave of remembrance and subsequent regret. She looks down at the woman, still thrashing in the sheets as if trying to run away from the pain, and she feels brutally helpless. She's given Eve pain again, and in the same spot. It feels like loss. It feels like Rome.

It's slow, but Eve's breaths begin to resettle into a regular pattern. There are tears wetting her neck and she is carefully rubbing her left shoulder and Villanelle wants to say something. She looks down, not knowing what else to do, and notices the ridiculous pink bear, torn apart, its stuffing laying in its wake. She dares to look up again and sees the heart on the desk, next to an empty wine glass. Dropping her eyes back to the bed, she tries to assume some level of vulnerability, wants to make sure she meets Eve's gaze with no bravado, no arrogance. Eve is glaring up at her.

"Get the fuck out."

"Eve."

"Please."

"I'm-"

"I don't care that you're sorry. I want you to leave."

There is still so much pain in Eve's eyes, mixed with something else; always mixed with something else. But Villanelle can't try to pull that out of her, not now. Not when she's staring up at her and – and, she's crying again.

No, she's sobbing. Eve's entire body is shaking, to the point of Villanelle worrying she'll hurt herself. The worst part is, she's doing everything she can to hold Villanelle's gaze in spite of it. And she feels it again – feels the incessant pull of Eve's eyes. She has to be close to her now, has to hold her, has to keep her from falling into herself. She takes a few short steps forward out of caution, gauging Eve's reaction. To her surprise, Eve nods quickly through her watery gasps and raises her arms, clearly saying _come here._

Villanelle wastes no time in destroying the space between them, wrapping her arms around Eve's back and assuming a strong hold, careful to favor her good side. Her crying is violent and her arms settle weakly around Villanelle, as if, somewhere along the way, she lost the strength to hold her. Villanelle only responds by slowly caressing her back up and down, in long, meaningful strokes. She's still afraid to speak, afraid of Eve's anger. But this complete proximity means she's burning for her with a flame that is less about lust and more about love – love not marred by anything base.

"Shh, you're okay, you're okay. I'm here, just breathe." She whispers steadily into Eve's ear. And as her arms continue to stroke her back, she feels Eve inch closer towards some degree of composure. She sniffles, burying her face into the crook of Villanelle's neck. They stay like this for a few minutes, and Villanelle feels like she is dangling between Heaven and Hell. She guides her strokes further up Eve's back, gracing her fingers tenderly up her neck, past the deep curls. She repeats this action a few times, before she feels Eve begin to squirm against her.

"Thank you," she says, and her voice is gravelly from the crying and so drenched in emotion that Villanelle can’t help but shiver. Very slowly, and with an incredible degree of gentleness, she guides Eve's head up away from her own wet shoulder, positioning her just far enough away that she can look at her. Her heart swells. Eve's eyes are bloodshot, red all around, and her nose is still running and she's making these little sounds that can only be described as the ghosts of a whimper. The purple bump on her forehead contrasts brilliantly with the soft, swollen redness of tears. Villanelle keeps her hands firmly set at Eve's hips, rubbing her thumbs in small circles, wanting to continue the comfort.

"Hey, are you okay?" She asks slowly. She brings a hand up to Eve's face, working the hair out of her eyes before settling around her cheek, cupping it warmly.

A light smile passes over her lips and she says, "I'm crazy." She lets out a small laugh.

Villanelle can’t help but frown. "What do you mean, Eve?"

Eve's eyes seem to scan over Villanelle, lingering for a few seconds on her exposed neck, with an expression that Villanelle can't quite define. She cups Eve's other cheek and slowly pivots her head back up until their eyes are attached again.

“Talk to me. What is going on?” Villanelle keeps her voice as gentle as she can. Eve shifts a little in her hold, readjusting herself to sit more properly on the bed. A small wince passes over her features as she makes the mistake of balancing her weight on her bad side, and the pained look in her eye shoots into Villanelle.

“Oh, Eve. Here, stop moving, please...please don’t hurt yourself.”

Again, Eve adopts that bizarre smile somewhere between euphoria and profound sadness. She quickly leans forward and rests her head on Villanelle’s chest. Villanelle’s hands shoot to her hair, stroking through the curls. She stares past Eve towards the bare wall and feels like sighing; never feeling so helpless, so unable to gauge a person. The bus appears in her mind, coupled with the knowledge that she should have been much, much gentler with the smaller woman.

She’s thinking of Eve’s angry grunts and gasps and then the sudden softness and then - then - oh.

Eve has started to nibble lightly and wetly at the base of Villanelle’s neck.

Knowing full well that this may simply be an act of comfort, influenced by Eve’s obviously frenzied emotions, Villanelle does not initially react. She just keeps her hands firmly on Eve’s back.

But she’s human too, and Eve’s mouth has moved up towards her jaw, and she feels a moan catch in her throat.

“Eve-“

“Shh.”

Villanelle releases the moan now, and Eve nips beneath her ear in response. She moves along her cheek, tongue poking out at intervals to lull the nibbles left in her wake. She reaches her lips, ghosts over them with hot breath, and it’s then that Eve brings up two hands, cupping Villanelle’s face. She draws her in.

And _god_ , it’s different. It’s better. Eve’s mouth seems to envelop Villanelle’s, and their eyes are closed. Villanelle hums repeatedly into the kiss and Eve meets her tongue at every stroke.

When Eve’s hands begin to wander, toying at the hem of Villanelle’s shirt, the latter stops her, pulling her away.

She looks at Eve and her now swollen lips. Villanelle sighs.

“You don’t owe me anything, Eve.”

Visibly, a wave of confusion crashes into Eve’s eyes. “No - what do you mean?”

“It is okay if you kissed me only to distract me. More than okay, actually. But I, I don’t want you to feel like you have to….make it up to me or something.” She starts to ramble, “Because you gave me what I wanted, you might think you have to go through with it now, and I don’t want you to feel that way.”

She pauses.

“I’ve never wanted you to feel that way. I came here… I… I don’t know why I came here, I just needed to see you, to make sure you’re real.”

Eve brings her hands up again, repositioning them on Villanelle’s face. She holds her with intent.

“Villanelle, listen to me. _I_ kissed _you_. You’ve never coerced me into anything. You might’ve awakened something in me, but it was already there, long before you. I want this, and it’s as real to me as it is to you. Trust me.”

“Then why were you crying?”

Eve sighs and says, “It’s hard to...make amends with it, that I’m not really who I thought I was. And earlier, god, I just couldn’t help myself and it surprised me and...and I’m so sorry, Villanelle, that I couldn’t have it made better for you.”

Villanelle takes hold of Eve’s hands. “It was perfect, Eve. Your eyes were right there and I felt like I was falling into you. You’re different now, I think. Since..” and her voice plummets on the word, “...Rome.” She opens her mouth with a heartbreaking expression and Eve stops her.

“I know you’re sorry. I felt it. Please don’t say it.” She tucks a blonde wave of hair behind her ear.

“You’re a miracle, Eve.” And there are tears in Villanelle’s eyes now, and Eve rubs her back, and it’s amazing how the roles have shifted. How their roles always shift, because the balance of power is no match against the sharpness of passion.

As Villanelle sniffles into Eve’s shoulder, she feels shaking beneath her, and is worried that Eve has started to cry again. She looks up with alertness, and is met with a beautiful image of curls bouncing and Eve laughing.

“Have we just been crying on each other?” She snorts out. Villanelle releases a loud laugh that seems to mingle with Eve’s, and it’s so precious to be at peace with each other like this.

They’re laughing and Eve starts offering feather-light touches to Villanelle’s face, sort of wiping away her tears and feeling around just to feel. She traces her nose, her cheekbones, the small creases of her forehead, and Villanelle sees that Eve’s eyes are just full of reverence.

“Beautiful.” Eve whispers, and then, “Let me kiss you, Vil.”

Villanelle nods brightly and then Eve leans in. It’s at first salty from their combined tears, but it quickly distills into the mouthy flavor of warm tongues colliding. It quickly becomes rushed and feverish, with Villanelle’s hands almost completely interwoven in Eve’s hair, and Eve’s hands maneuvering around to Villanelle’s front to lift her shirt. She peels it off quickly and is met with the sight of a black lacy bra, that is sinfully tight against Villanelle’s pale skin.

Eve dives down, licking between her breasts, wanting a closeness, a unity that is not even humanly possible. Villanelle gasps and moans.

“Take it off, Eve, take it off.”


	2. like a holy gasp

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I call it how I see  
> But you care way too much for me  
> And I can't stand that honestly  
> So I pushed it all away  
> 'Cause I won't let you see me this way  
> But still, I'd wish you stay"

She curls her hands around Villanelle’s toned body and unclasps the bra in one swift movement, drawing her mouth up to suck on Villanelle’s pulse points all the while. Her neck feels smooth and soft beneath Eve’s lips and they’re both shivering.

The small noises escaping her mouth are what get Eve - they eventually prompt her to pull Villanelle’s sleek dress pants down her legs, and drop them off the side of the bed. She then pulls her own shirt over her head, revealing her bare chest.

“Oh, Eve.” Villanelle sighs, placing a hand softly over her breast and then brushing her thumb over her nipple. “You’re gorgeous.”

“Shh.” Eve whispers, and starts to push Villanelle down against the pillows, until she is hovering above her. Villanelle croons under her full weight and says, “Wait Eve, I can-“

“No,” Eve husks lightly into her ear, “Let me. I want to take care of you.” She leans in, pressing down on her with a force that is both possessive and calm, the calm that only comes with abounding love, love that has had ample time to grow. Their lips meet again and Eve’s tongue breaks into a hazy dance, exploring every inch of Villanelle’s mouth.

Her hand creeps slowly down Villanelle’s stomach, careful to feel everything and commit it all to memory. She slips underneath her underwear, brushes against the patch of curls and goes lower, all while trying desperately to quiet the voice screaming within her, the voice that says, _“You don’t know what you’re doing.”_

As if this voice had filled the whole room, Villanelle says, “Eve, do whatever feels natural. I just want you.” Her voice is deep and warm against Eve’s neck.

Eve nods, leaning down to kiss her again. Her thumb finds Villanelle’s clit, but not before stealing through pure, slick heat and she moans thickly knowing it’s all for her. The attempt is slow at first, with Eve drawing slow circles against the nub, getting used to the area, wanting to know how to treat it. She is motivated by the increase of Villanelle’s mountainous groans and soft whimpers. It’s very familiar, a lot like touching herself. Keeping her thumb working against Villanelle’s clit, she lowers a finger towards her entrance, just circling it. The body beneath her suddenly bucks up, and there is a pleading look in Villanelle’s eye.

“Yes, Eve. _Please_.”

Eve slowly pushes her finger in, then feels bold and adds another. It’s something close to insanity, the way entering Villanelle makes her feel. It’s so blaringly _new_ , the impossibly soft wetness, and so primal, and so achingly definitive of Villanelle down to her very essence.

And she needs more. Eve moves her mouth away from the shaky lips beneath her own, and grazes across Villanelle’s cheeks, reveling in the softness. The low whines aren’t lost on her, and neither are the hands that were once gripping her back, now finding purchase in her curls, as she tries to gently maneuver Eve’s mouth back to her own.

Denying the soft request, she dips her head further down Villanelle’s body, licking little rings around her nipples. She continues to pump into her, slowly, and then speeds up in conjunction with the movements of her thumb. She feels dizzy, to have all this control.

Villanelle writhes beneath her, crying out and whispering shaky exclamations of...love - _is that what she just said?_

Eve releases the nipple she had been relishing and lifts her gaze. Villanelle’s eyes are pitch black. She’s never seen someone’s eyes appear so devoid of control, so entirely under the jurisdiction of desire. There are tears too, collecting and falling, drenching her flushed cheeks. Eve moves her free hand to Villanelle’s side, and just strokes from her rib cage back down to her hips, repeating the tender motion.

“Shh, baby. You feel amazing.”

The contrast between the metallic harshness of the soft massage over her clit coupled with the delicious pressure of fingers against her walls, and the incredible comfort of Eve’s other hand stroking up and down her side with obscene tenderness makes Villanelle’s head spin. She sucks in greedy huffs of air and wraps her hand around the back of Eve’s neck weakly, met with damp curls swimming in a sheen of sweat. She groans.

It’s not Rome. It’s not even a particularly nice part of London. It’s beneath Eve, _with_ Eve. There’s darkness too, the room is dark and so is Eve’s hair and so is the widening crater Villanelle feels within her chest. Yet, there’s some semblance of pure light flooding into her and through her, because of Eve’s relentless touch. The calmness, the ease with which they slide into this, and how confident Eve now seems in her movements - it’s all combined into an emotional cascade that just simply breaks something in Villanelle.

Eve keeps a tight focus on the nipples beneath her tongue, and even more so on Villanelle’s core, settling into an easy pace of curling fingers and a gentle yet persistent thumb.

“Are you close?” She whispers, and Villanelle feels the words hum and dance against her nipple.

“Yes - I… _shit_ , Eve.” She groans heavily.

“Shh. Let yourself go.” Eve intensifies all of her ministrations: curls her thumb in soft, tight circles, pumps her fingers with greater haste, and bites along the soft expanse of Villanelle’s neck. “Come for me, baby.”

The pet name rings in Villanelle’s ears and the ceiling seems to split open above her. Stars crash and burn in small, quivering flashes of blistering light. Her entire body seems to beg for the sky.

Eve watches, entranced. She brings her free hand up to cup Villanelle’s cheek as she rides the waves, keeping her fingers lodged deep within. She keeps lavishing small, stunning strokes across Villanelle’s clit, until she hears her begin to whimper and pull away.

Villanelle squirms and stretches beneath Eve, and the subtle pressure this creates against Eve’s pajama shorts propels her to shiver, and to grind down. She is slack-jawed, sweaty, and the solidity of Villanelle’s thigh is overwhelmingly welcoming.

Everything about her body, actually, is the most welcoming thing she’s ever had such close proximity to.

If you subtracted the nearly flawless body, Villanelle’s raw, punctured, jovial, sweet soul would welcome Eve home all the same.

Eve lets her mind sink into these reveries of Villanelle, body and soul. She peers down at the woman beneath her, at the reality of her presence, the soft pink of her flushed cheeks. Villanelle’s hands, somewhere along the way, have come to rest on Eve’s hips, encouraging her movements. Her eyes are black; Eve thinks her own must look the same, but resembling a slightly deeper abyss.

There is a flash of some sudden thought passing over Villanelle’s face. She places one of her hands against Eve’s chest, between her breasts, relishing in the rocking motion.

“Eve, do you want me to touch you?”

Eve considers her, thinks for a moment of Villanelle’s fingers against her bare flesh, but feels anchored to her warm thigh nonetheless. She doesn’t want to abandon it. She’s already so close anyway.

“No,” Eve brushes her hand against Villanelle’s neck, “No, I’m so close. Just keep me here.”

Villanelle gulps at the words and grabs Eve’s hips with greater purpose. She raises her thigh up into Eve’s incredible heat and whimpers. Eve’s hands start to thrash around, finding rest on Villanelle’s stomach, smoothing over her abs and back up to the undersides of her breasts. She shivers mindlessly, as her head falls a degree back with each beautiful thrust. Her mouth falls open, and Villanelle prepares for Eve’s seemingly imminent release, grabbing the woman’s breasts and remaining loyal to the heady movements of her own thigh.

But Eve’s head snaps back up, her skin is beet red and she’s panting, and she might already be in the midst of coming, but she runs her hands up Villanelle’s forearms and says, “I love you-” It chokes out of her like a holy gasp, “I love you, Villanelle. _I love you_.”

And Villanelle feels the world between them quiver, expand, and burst, full of debris and shockwaves and everything terrifying and beautiful, everything that’s ever been called _sublime_.

Eve pants heavily and crookedly, as if trying to chase away her orgasm instead of enjoying it, because she’s making great haste in falling into Villanelle’s figure, with her head balanced softly on Villanelle’s upper chest. She’s wrapping her arms around her fervently, as if trying to break through the mattress, to assume even more intimacy, because it will never be enough.

_But we’ve just broken through the world, Eve. It’s finally open for us._

Villanelle wraps her arms tightly around Eve’s shivering frame, enacting long, purposeful strokes up and down her back. She knows she’s crying, she knows Eve can hear her sniffles, can feel the dampness trailing down to her chest.

Villanelle arches up, Eve pushes down, both trying to mold into the other, to connect themselves, to shed any remnant of individuality.

Their lips meet and it’s salty and warm and tangled with light. Villanelle breaks it, their foreheads rest against each other, and she’s never known such intimacy in her life.

“I love you too, Eve. I love you. I love you. _My love_ -” She’s crying and Eve’s face almost looks pained in response, and she leans down and kisses each tear she can find. She caresses her all over, paying mind to each shuddering breath and soft sob and offers her own admissions of love.

They fall asleep entirely tangled up in each other: Villanelle’s hands finding solace at the back of Eve’s neck, wrapped in her gentle curls, and Eve with both arms wrapped seamlessly around Villanelle’s upper body, counting each breath as a prayer.

A few blocks away from the apartment, in the distant hush of early morning, double-decker transit buses begin their routes all over the city with the easy grace of meeting people halfway, of carrying, of delivering, of _connecting_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My deepest apologies for the late upload, but I sincerely hope this was somewhat enjoyable! I've quite literally gotten an hour of sleep since 3x06 and I think that deprivation may have propelled me to finally finish this. I'm hoping to write more for these characters in the future, so please don't hesitate to let me know what you think! 
> 
> I'm incredibly soft and stupid and Dasha should probably puncture me soon. 
> 
> I'm to be found perpetually on tumblr @prepxn


End file.
